The Return of an Ancient King
by Eragon Skulblakahjarta
Summary: What if the Agaetí Blödhren had done more than just accelerate Eragon's change into a full rider and heal his back? What if he was destined for something more? Mystery, magic, elves, more powers, modified Agaetí Blödhren, new armor and weapons, and, of course, DRAGONS! Rating is mainly for safety and may eventually change depending on how the story progresses. ON HOLD INDEFINETLY!
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

Disclaimer; None of the Inheritance Cycle story is mine. All characters, places, and languages belong to Christopher Paolini.

The Return of an Ancient King

Eragon thrashed in his sleep, caught in the dream

_A gentle rocking motion, as if he was on a boat. The wind buffeting his face, hair streaming out behind him. He was flying. Looking down, he sees a long, sinuous neck covered in blue scales. A name leaps into his mind. "Saphira." Looking over the great neck, he sees a humongous plain stretched out beneath him, random bits of flame burning merrily. On opposite side of the field were two armies. They both charge and the dream seems to shimmer._

_ The vision solidifies just in time to see a flash of red rush past as dragon and rider leap back into the battle. He draws a sword with a crimson blade and the dream dissolves into random bits of sound and images._

_ A flash of red and blue. _

_A rush of fire and the ring of steel-on-steel._

_A pained shriek._

_A feeling of earth beneath his feet._

_Some bellowed words in a strange language and more steely clangs._

_A sense of pain not his own and immense anger because of it._

_White scales and a feeling of power and tremendous fury._

_A rush of sapphire flames and the flash of white claws._

_A bellow of pain and a red beast winging away._

As the dream ends, Eragon relaxes into a deeper sleep. He's soon awakened by a loud squeak and a crack coming from the blue stone on his bed-side table. He quickly forgot about the dream.

Angela and Solembum looked at each other as Eragon left Angela's shop in Teirm.

_There's something that you are hiding from him, isn't there. _Solembum said flatly as he stared at the eccentric herbalist.

Angela chuckled.

"Indeed I am, my scruffy friend," she said, pulling out more dragon knucklebone rune stones and placing them on the table. "See here. The flame and the horns in this order… I haven't seen that in over a hundred years! He has the body of a man, yet the heart and mind of a dragon. This, though, is most intriguing. I am not often confused, and yet, these four runes continue to confound me."

Solembum leaned over the table to look at the runes Angela was pointing at. At the very center on the board were four runes in a diamond formation, all touching each other; a dragon and a human side-by-side. Over top was a sword and underneath was a claw. Standing up and moving away from the table to get a better look, both stop dead in their tracks and turn to stare at each other, and then the board again.

On the board, the runes produced an outline of an ancient symbol. A dragon, curled into a circle, with a crown slightly above it.

So? What do ya think? Should I continue it? Or is it complete rubbish? Either way, update times WILL be erratic. Do NOT expect consistent update times. There may be stretches where I cannot write at all. Don't panic though! If I ever have to abandon this story or will be leaving it sit for a long time, I will post a message either on my profile or on the story. Thank you!

Eragon Sulblakahjarta


	2. Chapter 2 Umm Ouch?

**Thank you very much to those of who reviewed! I mean, wow! Three reviews in one night, for the first chapter! Well, might as well answer them…**

**GaaraSandNiN- Thank you very much! Like I said in the previous chapter, if I ever have to leave this sit or abandon it, you will know beforehand!**

**Guest- That's really odd how it uploaded. In the Word document, I made it so it has line breaks, but it seems like they were lost in the upload. I think I'll just use a shortened version of the name then.**

**Niet boeiend- Yes, I have trouble with the tenses at times. I'll probably have to make sure about that more. Thank you for bring that to my attention. And the first chapter was just the prologue, so no ****Agaetí Blödhern in that one. This one, most definitely. ****On another note… YES! SOMEONE GOT THE IDEA OF WHAT'S GOING ON! Though I will tell you this. 1) I have never played Skyrim. 2) Sorta like a shape shifter, but not quite. 3) Much closer than the other two (wink wink).**

**Disclaimer; None of the Inheritance Cycle story is mine. All characters, places, and languages belong to Christopher Paolini.**

*TRoaAK*

The night that the Agaetí Blödhern was planned to start, Arya was leading Eragon, Saphira, and Orik to the Menoa tree. Many others were there, all waiting for the celebration to begin. Eragon's marked palm tingled as they approached the tree, as if the silvery skin knew something was to happen in the nights ahead.

"Wait here," Arya said, as she slipped off through the crowd. She soon returned leading Rhunon, the smith looking around owlishly. Spotting the trio, she greeted them.

"Atra esterní ono thulduin, Brightscales, Shadeslayer."

Before the rider and dragon pair could respond, the smith turned to Orik and greeted him in the Dwarven language. Orik brightened considerably, estastic to speak with someone that knew his native toung. After a short time, Rhunon left them and the remaining four moved towards the Menoa tree. There they waited until the stroke of midnight, when Islanzadí lifted her arm to the moon. A white werelight gathered above her palm. She slowly walked to the trunk of the massive tree and placed the orb inside a niche in the bark.

"Has it begun?" Eragon asked.

"It is begun!" Arya exclaimed, laughing joyfuly.

Eragon would never be able to recall all that happened over the next three days, but he would always remember the final hours of the third night.

*TRoaAK*

_Thump!_

The two elf-maidens, Iduna and Neya(A/N I'm horribal at remembering how to make the accents, and B&amp;N won't let me copy from the online book, so if you can just think they're there…) began to stomp their bare feet on the ground.

_Thump!_

_Thump! _

On the third stomp, the drummers began to strike their instruments with the rhythm. Another thump and the harps joined in, and then the flutes. Slowly gathering speed, the two elf-maidens dance in such a way that the dragon tattooed upon them seemed to move. Then the surrounding elves began to sing a spell so complex, it's meaning was lost to time. Suddenly, a light flared from the dragon tattoo. A burst of flame announced the dragon's arrival as it tore itself from the twins to hover above them in a rainbow of color. As the beast surveyed the assembled elves, Eragon looked eyes with it. The dragon broke the gaze and swept over the elves, stopping in front of Eragon. Seemingly in a trance, the rider reached out with his gedwey ignasia towards the dragon. As it touched it's snout to the silvery mark, he heard it speak to him.

_Our gift so you may do what you must. _

Eragon had thought he knew pain when Durza slashed his back. That was nothing to compared to what he was feeling now. His whole body burned in agony and his vision flashed red and black before he finally lost concesness.

*TRoaAK*

When Eragon woke, he was alone. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the tree house that his and Saphira's rooms. Before he even fully awoke though, Saphira slammed into his mind, waves of concern and anxiety washing over the link.

_How are you? _She asked.

_I feel… great. Better than I have in my whole life. How long have I been out?_

_Only an hour. I would have come with you, but I was needed to complete the ceremony. You should have seen the elves' reaction to you fainting. It was rather amusing seeing them running around like chickens with their head chopped off. Nothing like this has ever happened before._

_Why? What happened?_

_The combined memories of the dragons, made corporeal by the elves' magic gave you a gift._

_What do you mean?_

_I suggest you take a look in the mirror. It might explain a few things. _Done explain for now, Saphira withdrew from his mind.

Getting up and crossing over to the full length mirror, Eragon gazed into its surface in shock. The world went black for the second time that night.

*TRoaAK*

**Ooohh… Evil cliffie! Hehe… **

**WOW! Even more reviews from the time when I started to write this chapter! Thank you guys so much for your support! Now then, next chapter we see the full effect the ****Agaetí Blödhern had** **on Eragon! Until then, Atra du evarínya ono varda!**

**Eragon Skulblakahjarta**


	3. Chapter 3 In Which Odd Things Occurr

**Now then. I've noticed a few people have become rather confused about the *TRoaAK* that I've been putting into the story. It's quite simple, really. They're just my pathetic excuse for a line since the formatting doesn't transfer over form Word to Fanfic. Also, it's not any sort of word at all, it's simply a shortened version of the story name. Take the first letter of each word, cram them together, and you get TRoaAK with two of the * symbols to round it off for effect. I apologize if this has offended or confused anybody, as that was not my intention.**

**Again, then you to all those who reviewed and followed/favorite this story. I apologize that the chapters are so short, but I really do not have time to write much in addition to my regular studies, which take up most of the day.**

**Also, you may notice that I start using some of the paragraphs from the books, slightly changed. This is simply to 1) save time, and 2) make writing this story a whole heck of a lot easier.**

**Disclaimer; None of the Inheritance Cycle is mine. All recognizable characters, names, places, languages, etc. belong to Christopher Paolini.**

*TRoaAK*

Groaning, Eragon gingerly sat up again. Glancing outside of the treehouse, he could tell it was dark out, yet he could see as if it was only getting to twilight. Staring for a moment, he shakes his head and pulls himself to his feet, hissing in pain as stiff muscles protested the movement, before freezing.

_Wait. Hissing? _He thought to himself._ Since when did I hiss?_

Staggering over to the mirror, he stops and stares. Looking back at him is not the average height, auburn-haired, brown-eyed, well-tanned human that he was expecting. Instead what greeted him was the second most astounding sight of life, next to Saphira's egg hatching.

First, he was no longer 'average height.' He now rivaled the tallest of elves at an even seven feet. His skin had lightened considerably, almost alabaster colored now. His face was what had changed the most though. His features had sharpened, almost like those of a large cat or a dragon. His ears had finished their change to a point and he could now hear the slightest of sounds. His hair had changed to an ethereal white color and had lengthened down to the middle of his back, framing his face in long strands the color of starlight. Somehow he knew that neither his skin nor his hair would give him away in the dark if he did not wish to be seen, regardless of their color. The most startling change though, was his eyes. They were no longer the soft brown that he had known his whole life. They were now a brilliant sapphire blue, brighter than even Saphira's scales, and burning with a barely contained inner fire. His pupils had changed to a long, black, slit shape, like those of a dragon.

_Oh. Well, I guess that explains it. _He thought, before he turned around to go back down to the celebration. Expecting to feel the familiar and unwanted twinge from the scar that he acquired form Durza, he was pleasantly surprised to not feel anything. Turning back to the mirror, he franticly pulled of his tunic and twisted around to check on the scar. Nothing was there. The scar was gone and he was healed. Grinning, he went to pull his tunic back on, when he noticed that all his clothes had turned a pure white. Shrugging, he put the article of clothing on anyways and went back down to rejoin the others.

*TRoaAK*

When Eragon rejoined the celebrations, the surrounding elves (and dragons) all turned to look at him in apparent shock. Smiling and waving weakly, he moved over to Saphira and embraced her neck. Turning around, he was rather startled when everyone (even Oromis and Glaedr) but Saphira kneeled before him.

"Umm… Is everything alright?" He asked awkwardly.

Islanzadí then stood up, the rest of the elves following her lead.

"Greetings, Dovahkiin."

*TRoaAK*

**Hehe… Return of the cliffie! I decided to look up the Skyrim that a few people were talking about, and decided I liked the idea of it, sooo… I guess that's another disclaimer I'll have to do... ****I own nothing of Skyrim, the Elder Scrolls, etc. ****Well then, I can tell you right now, that Eragon is not going to ****_only _**** be a Dovahkiin, but he will not be ridiculously powerful either. And there's a hint with the dragon eyes and the Dovahkiin things. Next chapter should be Eragon's reaction to elves and might include him getting ready to go to the Burning Plains. That's when the story will really heat up. So, until next time,**

**Atra du evarínya ono varda, vinr!**

**Eragon Skulblakahjarta**


	4. Chapter 4 Dovah-what?

**'****Ello there! Sorry I haven't written anything in a while, but I've had numerous tests and essays, plus state testing, and getting caught up with lessons, soo… yeah, haven't had much time.**

**I've noticed a bit of confusion with my description of Eragon after the change. I know I'm not that good at describing things within a story,, and I don't have a beta except for myself, so I'll do it here. Eragon's current form is a full elf, except for the eyes, teeth, and of course, the dragon blood in his veins. To get an idea of what he looks like, picture Legolas from LOTR, just taller, slightly paler skin, white hair, blue dragon eyes, and sharp teeth. I hope that helps!**

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Inheritance Cycle, nor Skyrim. Rights go to Christopher Paolini and Bethesda Softworks and Gaming Studios, respectively.**

**Now then, on with tha story!**

*TRoaAK*

Eragon looked around in confusion as everyone, even Islanzadí, stared at him.

"Dovahkiin? What in the name of Talos is a Dragonborn?!" He paused for a moment, looking rather startled. "How did I know what that meant?! And who is Talos?!"

Islanzadí smiled and moved forwards a few steps.

"The reason you knew the translation is because you are the Dovahkiin, a humanoid person who has the soul and blood of a dragon. Talos was the first Dovahkiin, and is regarded as the greatest of them, almost to the status of other races' Gods. Now, the next Dragonborn has revealed himself to us; you. As such, you will have the full command of our armies, as well as the allegiance of the dragons. You should also have an instinctive knowledge of the Thu'um. The Dragon Shouts. Spells of great power that even our most skilled casters cannot utter. Use this gift wisely."

For a moment, Eragon stood in shock, trying to comprehend everything that was being said. Slowly, a grin worked its way across his face. This was going to be fun.

*TRoaAK*

"Are you ready, Shadslayer?" Vanir called across the training field.

"I am." Eragon replied, as they faced each other a few feet apart. Reaching down to his hip, he grasped the hilt of Zar'roc and drew the blade as quickly as he could. To his surprise, it felt like it weighed as much as a willow branch. As his arm snapped straight by the lack of resistance, the sword went flying out of his, spinning end-over-end until is buried itself deep into the trunk of a large pine tree.

"Is it impossible for you keep ahold of your blade, Shadslayer?" Vanir said as he scowled at Eragon. Walking over to the blade, he paused and looked over his shoulder, a sneer etched onto his face. "Perhaps you should tie it to your hand?"

"I underestimated my strength," Eragon replied, as he rubbed his sore elbow.

Vanir sniffed arrogantly. "See that it does not happen again." The elf grasped at the hilt of the crimson sword and pulled. It remained motionless. Frowning, he braced himself, and heaved at the blade, freeing it with a crack of over-strained wood. Walking back over, he handed Zar'roc back to Eragon.

Before Eragon had time to contemplate how light the sword suddenly was, Vanir had already attacked, forcing Eragon to bring the blade to block the strike. Oddly, the normally lightning fast elf seemed to move only as fast as a human, making it easy to deflect the Vanir's blade.

Landing lightly, Vanir stared at Eragon with an astonished expression. He swung again, this time at Eragon's neck, forcing him to lean back like a sapling in the wind. Vanir looked at Eragon strangely for a moment, before unleashing a flurry of attacks, which were all blocked or dodged by the white haired elf.

During a short lull in the duel, Eragon realized that the Agaetí Blödhern had done more than change his appearance. It had given him strength and speed equal or greater than the most athletic elf. Emboldened by this new knowledge, he crouched and quickly sprang upward easily reaching ten feet in height. Flipping around, he landed silently behind Vanir and let out a fierce laugh. He would no longer be helpless against beings of magic. He would no longer suffer the contempt of the elves, nor would he rely on others to rescue him.

As Vanir whipped around, Eragon bared his new, sharp, teeth and snarled. The sound shocked Vanir for a fraction of a second before leaping to meet his opponent. Eragon did the same, releasing a draconic roar as he leapt. Within seconds, both were in a dance of flashing steel. The duel lasted for most of the morning, even with Eragon's new skill. The dragon blood in his veins was singing for battle and victory though, and it would not be denied. Weaving a web of flashing steel around Vanir's blade, Eragon deflected the weak attempt at a defense, and lunged, Zar'roc connecting with Vanir's upper arm, breaking the bone.

"Vanir dropped his sword and looked at Eragon in shock.

"By the gods!" Orik exclaimed. "That was the best swordsmanship I've ever seen, even better than your duel with Arya in Farthen Dur!"

Then Vanir twisted his uninjured hand and placed it on his sternum and bowed. "I apologize for my earlier words, Eragon-elda. I had believed that you had consigned my race to the void, and that fueled my shameful actions. However, you have proved me wrong. You are worthy of the titles of Rider and Dovahkiin."

Eragon bowed back. "You honor me with your words. I also apologize for injuring you so. Will you allow me to heal your arm?"

"No, I shall let it heal at nature's own pace, as a reminder that I once crossed blades with Eragon Shadeslayer."

With a final bow to each other, Vanir departed.

*TRoaAK*

**Another chapter done. I know that I'm basically following the story right now, but don't worry, things will get much more exciting within the next couple of chapters. I'm going to try to get the Battle of the Burning Plains in for the next chapter. Key word is 'try.' I also buried a little hint in there for what might have occurred to Eragon. See if you can find it! But I won't be givin' out any of me secr'ts now, savvy? Ugh, now I'm starting to sound like Jack. Knew I should have watched POTC…**

**Eragon Skulblakahjarta.**


	5. Chapter 5 The Burning Plains

**Hello again! As promised, this chapter is the start of the Burning Plains battle. Please note that I have skipped the parts of the book between the chapters of "In a Starry Glade" and "To Aberon." The story is the same through those chapters, as I have nothing to add to Roran's story or the part where Eragon and Saphira are traveling. This chapter begins with their return to the Varden.**

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Inheritance Cycle, nor Skyrim. All rights go to Christopher Paolini and Bethesda Softworks and Gaming Studios, respectively.**

*TRoaAK*

Eragon leaned over the side of Saphira's neck as they circled above the foul vapors that clogged the air above the Burning Plains. Orik clung tightly to Eragon, steadfastly refusing to look down. Eragon's sharp draconic eyes easily picked out the two opposing armies that faced each other across the giant field. The men of the Varden and Surda, and to the north, Galbatorix's legions, greatly outnumbering the forces assembled in the south.

As soon as they were over the Varden's encampments, Saphira dove as quickly as she could, knowing that every second they were exposed to enemy magicians, the greater the danger. Eragon extended his mind as far as possible, searching for threats as Orik clung even tighter to him. Instead of finding the Empire's magicians, he felt the terror and panic of the Varden's sentinels. Just as he realized that they thought Saphira was attacking, a volley of arrows was loosed at the three of them.

Thrusting his hands forwards, he barked, "Letta orya thorna!"

The arrows halted in mid-flight, hanging in the air as if a giant, invisible spider had trussed them up. With a flick of the wrist and the command of "Ganga" (A/N Yes, I know there is supposed to be an accent mark above the first A. I don't know the key strokes, so please don't go all crazy on me.) the arrows were flung harmlessly out into the plains. Another arrow which had been fired a few second after the rest still raced towards them. Leaning far out of the saddle, Eragon snatched the arrow from the air as the dove past.

Just a hundred feet from the ground, Saphira flared her wings and slowed her dive, alighting first on her hind legs, and then falling forward onto her fore-limbs.

"Werg," Orik growled as he loosened the thongs that tied him to saddle. "I would rather face a dozen Kull than to experience another drop like that." He let himself dangle from the side of the saddle, and then fall to the ground. He stalked away, mumbling about crazy riders and suicidal dragons, as Eragon and Saphira watched him in amusement.

*TRoaAK*

Eragon sat atop Saphira, his new bow that had been gifted to him by Islanzadí held in his hand. His armor was strapped on, the bright colors appearing dull in comparison to his star-light colored hair. Zar'roc was settled on his left hip, hanging off of the Belt of Beloth the Wise. The Varden was spread before the pair with Nasuada at the front.

"Now, Eragon!" she shouted. "Tell Orrin to strike!" Then turning her attention to rest of the men, she took a deep breath before beginning to shout once more. "To me, men of the Varden! I can see the fear in your eyes. That is good. Use it! Remind yourselves of what we are fighting for! Fight to win back your homes! Fight to guard you wives and children! Fight to overthrow Galbatorix! Today, at this moment, we fight for FREEDOM!" She raised her sword into the air above her head as a great shout came from the assembled army. "CHARGE!" She spurred her horse forward, crouched low in the saddle, sword lowered in a point. The men behind her followed, bellowing war cries and brandishing weapons.

Eragon relayed Nasuada's orders to Barden, the spellcaster who was with Orrin. That done, Saphira and Eragon crouched as one unit and sprung into the air with a tremendous roar.

The collision of the two armies was deafening, weapons clashing against armor or other weapons. The rider-dragon pair hung back from the front line of the battle, as they would be too exposed. Eragon searched with his mind for the enemy magicians, firing his bow at the rest of the Empire's army all the while. Quickly finding Galbatorix's spellcasters, he demolished the magician's defenses, ripped the knowledge of the troops he was guarding from his mind, and then slew him with one of the words of death. He repeated the process for any magician he came across, greatly reducing the might of the army.

Soon though, the Empire recovered and brought forth catapults and ballistae and began to push back the Varden. As Saphira dropped to the ground, Eragon slipped out of the saddle and drew Zar'roc, launching himself into a near-by group of enemies, the crimson blade flashing in a whirlwind of deadly steel. Slowly though, they were getting overwhelmed and accumulating injuries. Then as the sun began it's decent from noon, a cry went up.

"The dwarves! The dwarves are here!"

Looking around wildly, Eragon leapt back up into the saddle and Saphira sprang into the air. From the eats, a whole host of the short humanoid dwarves marched towards the battle, King Hrothgar in the lead. The king raised his war-hammer, Volund, in greeting when he saw Eragon and Saphira.

Roaring at the top of his lungs, Eragon brandished Zar'roc, returning the gesture with Saphira adding her voice to his. The armies below paused, the Varden in hope, and the Empire in fear. Saphira dropped back to the ground and Orik immediately began questioning them.

"What did you see? Is it Hrothgar? How many of our warriors did he bring?!"

Eragon grinned as he stood up the stirrups and shouted, "Take heart, men of the Varden! King Hrothgar is here, and it looks like he has brought every single dwarf with him! Let hope guide you to defeating the Empire! Now take your swords and remind these sniveling flea-bitten cowards why they should fear us! Charge!"

Another shout from the Varden, and they swarmed forwards with renewed vigor. Before Eragon and Saphira could join in, another cry was heard, this time from the west.

"A ship! A ship is coming up the Jiet River!"

Eragon snarled in annoyance. _We can't let a ship land if it's bringing reinforcements for the Empire. _Extending his mind and contacting Trianna, he said, _Tell Nasuada the Saphira and I will take care of this. We'll sink the ship if from Galbatorix._

_As you wish, Argetlam, _she replied.

Leaping upward once more, the pair surveyed the battle raging below for a moment. Then turning toward the west, they suddenly had a clear view of the ship as the wind blew the smoke out of their line-of-sight. Rowing against the current, a battered and scared ship slowly worked its way up the river. It had no flag or marking to indicate its allegiance, but The two readied themselves to destroy anyways. As Saphira dove, Eragon raised Zar'roc above his head and loosed a war cry.

*TRoaAK*

Roran stood on the prow of the _Dragon Wing _with Elain next to him, straining his ears to determine what the cause of the sound that floated across the plains was. He could faintly pick up the ring of metal-on-metal. Turning he shouted to Uthar.

"Captain! There's fighting ahead!"

"Man the Ballistae!" Uthar roared. "Double-time it on those oars, Bonden. Every able-bodied man among you better be ready or your guts will be feeding the gulls soon!"

As the ship suddenly exploded into action, Roran stood where he was, Jeod coming up alongside him.

"Have you ever been in a battle before?" Roran asked.

Jeod swallowed hard and shook his head. "I got into plenty of fights with Brom, but never anything of this scale."

"A first for us both then."

The two of them stood there, listening to the sounds of battle echoing towards them, until a voice cut across the rest of the noise.

"A ship! A ship is coming up the Jiet River!"

Roran turned to Elain. "You should go belowdecks. It's not safe for you up here." She nodded and hurried away, just as Horst came running up and handed Roran one of Frisk's shields.

"Thought you might need that," he said in his gruff voice.

"Thanks, I-"

Roran stopped in mid-sentence as the air around them vibrated, as if a gigantic drum was struck just next to them. _Thud. _His teeth jarred together. _Thud. _His ears started to hurt from the pressure. With the third _thud _a familiar raw-throated yell that Roran recognized from his childhood. Looking upward, he saw a massive sapphire dragon diving out of the clouds. Seated on the dragons back, at the junction between its neck and shoulders, was Eragon.

It was not the Eragon he remembered though. This one looked as if a master artist had gotten ahold of his cousin's face and molded it, making his features more streamlined and feral. This Eragon looked every bit a prince, long white hair streaming out behind him, and garbed in fine cloth and armor, all tarnished by the grime of war. In his right hand he wielded a blade of iridescent red.

This new Eragon, Roran knew, would kill without hesitation, and was powerful and implacable. This Eragon could help him slay the Ra'zac and their mounts and free Katrina.

Suddenly, the dragon flared its translucent wings, pulling up short and hovering above the ship.

Before then, Roran had not believed Jeod's claim about Eragon and Brom. But now, as he stared at the ethereal being before him, a wash of conflicting emotions washed over him. _Eragon is a Rider! _IT seemed impossible, yet he was there in front of him.

Roran stiffened in alarm as a vast, alien, and _feral _being touched his mind. From that well of energy came Eragon's voice. _Roran?_

"Aye."

_Just think your answers and I'll hear them. Is everyone from Carvahall with you?_

_Just about._

_How did you – No, we don't have time. Stay where you are until the battle is decided, or better yet, go back down river._

_We have to talk, Eragon. You have much to answer for._

Eragon hesitated for a moment, a troubled expression on his face. _I know, Roran. But we can't go into that right now. _Stiffening, Eragon suddenly spun around in the saddle and stared off into the distance. Then without any visible prompting, the dragon spun and raced off towards the Northeast.

Squinting, Roran tried to make out what had caught his cousin's attention. As he watched, a small speck rose up into the sky and hovered there. As the sun pierced through a break in the clouds, the speck was illuminated. Roran froze, staring in disbelief. Balanced on the thermals rising from the plains, was a ruby red dragon, with an armored rider on its back, wielding a hand-and-a-half sword.

All Roran could do as he stared at the red dragon was hope that Eragon was strong enough to survive an encounter with the other rider.

*TRoaAK*

**And there you have it, folks! The first half of the Burning Plains battle. I hope you liked it!**

**On a side note… NO MORE SCHOOL! I'm not going to change my update-time from once a week, but the chapters will probably be longer. Thanks for sticking with me!**

**Eragon Skulblakahjarta**


	6. Chapter 6 And Stay Away!

**Hello again! Sorry for the slightly late update. I was having trouble deciding how I wanted to introduce this section of the plot, as I had three different versions running through my head. However, I wanted to start going off of the regular story-line, so I thought that this version would be best, instead of waiting for them to land on the ridge, like in the book. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Inheritance Cycle, nor Skyrim. All rights go to Christopher Paolini and Bethesda Softworks and Gaming Studios, respectively.**

*TRoaAK*

As Eragon and Saphira raced towards the red dragon and its rider, a rage unexplainable to Eragon welled up inside of him, roaring in rage that a dragon would willingly side with the demon that was the Traitor-king and Egg-breaker. The one who was responsible for the downfall of the dragon race. Snarling, Eragon urged Saphira faster and faster. Together, they extended their minds, hoping to overwhelm their opponent. As they made contact, in the instant before the unknown rider thrust them from his mind, Eragon noticed that the rider's mind felt odd, as if there were dozens of minds, all joined into one. Thanks to the dragon's gifts, he instinctively knew the answer.

_Eldunarí! _He said to Saphira. _He's using captured Eldunarí to assist him! _

Below him, Saphira growled, to angered for words. Before anything else could be exchanged between the two of them, Saphira and the red dragon clashed together, making both riders jerk in their saddles. They plummeted towards the ground, disengaging less than fifty yards of the ground. Both struggled to regain altitude. As they reached their previous height, Saphira reared back her head, and loosed a torrent of blue-tinged flames. Feet from the dragon, the flames parted, not even making a scorch mark on it's scales. The red dragon retaliated in kind, the fire stopped at the last second by a quick spell from Eragon. He missed the second attack though, this time from the rider. A blast of dense air impacted him, and threw him off of Saphira. Zar'roc was blasted from his hands and was caught by the red rider. That was the least of his concerns though, as he was tumbling through the air, with Saphira occupied by the red dragon.

(A/N; I thought about leaving it here, but that would be an extremely cruel cliffhanger, not to mention an equally short chapter.)

Eragon knew he could stop himself, but the energy the spell would need would make him to drained to continue fighting. As he franticly searched for a way to break his fall, he felt two barriers in his mind that seemed familiar to his magic, but at the same time, vastly different. He pushed against the first, more familiar feeling one, and his mind was flooded with what he knew as Shouts. A sudden roar of pain cut through the air, and he looked up from his fall to see Saphira tumbling down. Without thinking, he took a deep breath and shouted.

"**_Gesein mah!" _**(Slow fall)

Eragon looked on with relief as Saphira's decent was slowed enough that she would not be injured beyond a few more bumps and bruises. Turning his attention back to his own fall, he felt drawn back to the second barrier. This one also felt like a type of magic, but much more feral and unrelenting. Looking down, he saw there was only 200 yards left below him. He franticly shoved against the barrier, but it would not budge.

175 yards. He pushed harder on the barrier.

150 yards. He slammed against the barrier, feeling it start to crack.

125 yards. The crack widened, almost to the breaking point.

100 yards. With all his might, he rammed against the mental barrier, and it snapped.

Time seemed to slow down as Eragon's body was engulfed in pain. He began to grow rapidly, his spine lengthening and his chest barreling out. His clothes were ripped away from the pressure as his skin became thicker and leathery, white scales beginning to cover him. His spine lengthened beyond his buttocks, forming a strong tail. AT the same time, his neck got longer and more serpentine, muscles growing into place. His head was also changing, his hair falling out and being replaced with shinning white horns that were closer together than normal. Behind the first set of them where two more, smaller sets, with slightly larger gaps between them, creating a crown-like effect. His nose and mouth were pushed out into a snout, and his teeth grew and sharpened even more. His tongue grew thicker and forked, with small barbs along the length of it, like a cat's. His ears shriveled and were replaced with two small holes on either side of his head. Finally, his wings bust free from his back and flared, catching the air and halting his decent.

All of this happened in a matter of seconds, and without pausing, Eragon furiously pumped his new wings and climbed back to the red dragon's altitude. All eyes within sight were on him and he glared angrily at the unknown rider and dragon. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled, a torrent of brilliant sapphire-blue flames erupting from his maw. Eragon could see the rider smirk and raise Zar'roc in preparation for attack. Eragon ignored him however, and breathed flame for a few more seconds, before letting up. As the fire reached the red dragon, instead of parting as Saphira's did, it burned directly through the wards and impacted the red dragon's underside. With a pained roar, the dragon twisted away, trying to escape from the flames. Shocked by the display, the rider did nothing as his dragon carried him away, wisps of smoke and he smell of burning flesh trailing behind them.

With a satisfied snort, Eragon turned away and furled his wings, diving towards the ground. At the last moment, he flared his wings and landed lightly beside Saphira. He quickly nuzzled and sniffed her, making sure she was alright. Once satisfied that she would make a full recovery, the instinctual side that had dominated his thinking until that moment retreated. Blinking, Eragon looked around in slight confusion at all of the faces staring at him.

_What? _He said, not realizing he said it mentally. _Do I have something on me? _

He looked down at himself to see for himself and was greeted by the sight of powerful forelegs covered in shimmering white scales and ending in long, pearly claws.

_Oh. _He said weakly, before promptly fainting from a combination of energy loss, pain, and shock.

*TRoaAK*

**WOOHOO! Burning Plains is now complete! I hope you liked it! A word of warning, most of the following parts of this story will follow the very basics of the story-line, but will have major differences(obviously). However, I'm thinking about making it so Galbatorix is defeated earlier, sooo… yeah.**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: My family and I are going on a vacation starting on the 25****th****of this month. Yes, I know it's a Wednesday. Don't ask… All of our schedules are crazy. So, I will not be posting chapter 8 will be about a week and a half late.**

**If Eragon's draconic form has been described in another fic somewhere, I do not know of it. If there is, I apologize. But let me walk you through my thought process, just for fun.**

**His color: I originally thought this would be hard, but it was surprisingly easy. I didn't want him black, as that it the color of Shruikan, and I didn't think that would sit very well with the Varden and Co.(Nothing against black dragons though! I absolutely love Toothless. However, I could not see a black colored Eragon fitting for this story. Not to mention that his modified Agaetí Blödhern** **would have looked ridiculous with black skin, hair, etc.) Blue would just be cliché, and I didn't really want that. The other colors just wouldn't fit him at all(Can you imagine a green colored elven Eragon?! He would look like a Martian or something!) So that left white, and I do like how he looks in my little, slightly insane, mind.**

**His eye color: He has brown eyes, people! How would brown eyes look on a white dragon?! Yick!**

**His horns: "Spoilers!"(AKA, not going to tell just yet!)**

**Flame color: Again, "Spoilers!" If you really want to ruin the reading of this story, I suggest you go look at my end notes for my "Blue Fire" poem, which can be found through my profile. I can tell you though, the explanation for both the horns and fire will be in the next chapter, so if you can wait a week…**

**Fire that's immune to enchantments: For the last time, "SPOILERS!"**

**Does that answer everyone's questions? If not, I'll answer them next time. So, until then, **

**Atra du evarínya ono varda, vinr!**

**Eragon Skulblakahjarta**


	7. Chapter 7 Don't Blink

**Hi there! I'm back! I'm still not entirely happy with how this chapter came out, but I wanted to get something up. If it needs changing, I'll come back and do it some other time later on. But I've made you guys wait long enough. So without further ado… "WEIGH ANCHOR AND HOIST THE SAILS! We sail for insanity, chaos, and hilarity. Hold onto yer hats, mates! It's gonna be a wild ride!"**

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Inheritance Cycle, nor Skyrim. All rights go to Christopher Paolini and Bethesda Softworks and Gaming Studios, respectively.**

"Regular speech."

_Thoughts and mental speech._

**"Magic-enhanced speech."**

**_Dovahzul._**

*TRoaAK*

Groaning, Eragon slowly came back to the land of the living. Opening his eyes and blinking in the harsh afternoon sun of the Burning Plains, he heaved himself to his feet, still to groggy to realize something was off. As he stretched, eyes closed in bliss, he made a mental list of his form.

_Head; pounding, but still sane, if I can call myself 'sane' after everything that's happened to me._

_ Arms and hands; stiff and numb, otherwise fine._

_ Legs and feet; burning like hell, as expected._

_ 'Bits;' screaming, so definitely there._

_ Tail; fine, sore as with everyt- TAIL?!_

Eragon's eyes flew back open as that last part of his anatomy registered. Whipping his head around, he saw the long white appendage starting to twitch as his panic built. He quickly looked over the rest of his body, not seeing a single patch of human or elven skin anywhere. His legs(_Four, _he absently noticed) felt weak all of a sudden, and he collapsed back onto the scorched earth beneath him. Looking away from studying his wings, he noticed that almost the entirety of the Varden, as well as the crew of the _Dragon Wing _and Saphira, was staring at him.

_Yes? _He weakly projected to all of them. They just blinked back at him.

_Can I help you? _He tried again, slightly stronger this time. They blinked again.

_Will you please stop staring at me?! _Eragon said, growling slightly in frustration.

Blink.

With a resounding roar, he pushed himself back to his feet not stopping to think why he had such good control over this form.

**_Talos ag nii!_**_ Stop staring at me! Does it look like I have any idea what's going on either?! _He glared at the assembled people as they blinked again. Snarling, he crouched and launched himself into the air, relying on the knowledge he gained from when he changed into a dragon. Wings beating furiously, he flew to the forest on the Northern side of the nearest mountain and settled in a small, peaceful glade, with a stream running across it. Landing softly, he padded over to where the water polled into a tiny pond and sat down next to it, peering at his reflection.

Some time later as the sun started to go down and cast long shadows, a shadow passed over him. Looking up, he spotted Saphira slowly circling lower until she stood a little ways away from him. She crouched, allowing her passengers, Roran and Orik to slide off. Pulling at the saddle, she sliced through the leather and allowing to fall off of her back. Softly padding over to sit next to him, Saphira joined him in gazing into the water. They stayed like that for over an hour as the sun slipped over the horizon and darkness fell. Not once, did Roran or Orik disturb the pair. Suddenly, Eragon collapsed sideways into Saphira and started to sob, his sporadic, keening cries echoing around the area. Saphira simply placed a wing over his back, and pulled him in even closer. Leaning down to nuzzle her rider's long serpentine neck, she murmured softly to him.

_All will be well, little one. For now, sleep._

*TRoaAK*

Back at camp, in a small tent slightly separated from the rest, Angela sat a table, tinkering with another of her potions when she suddenly stiffened and dropped her work. Without her noticing a furry paw shot out and caught the glass vial before it could reach the floor and shatter. In a hoarse voice, Angela started to speak.

** "The One with the strength to vanquish the Tyrant has come… Child of the Black Assassin and the Hidden Warrior, He will learn their Ways… Blessed by the Great Spirits of Old, He will come into His own… The Last of the Lost Line, He shall claim His place at the Shattered Stone of the First Bonded… The One shall come into his own…"**

As she stopped speaking, Angela slumped forwards onto the table, out cold.

*TRoaAK*

** Sooo… little bit of humor, little bit a EragonXSaphira bonding, and a little of crazy Angela. Yes I know, very short chapter, without a lot of explanations in it. But think of it this way. Would you rather go out and explore new places on your vacation, or stay in the hotel and write. Yeah, I thought so. **

**Well, as my faithful reviewer, Niet boeiend, has once again asked some very valid questions, I will answer them once again. This time with a simple "Wait and see." To be honest, it's not that I would not _like _to answer all of your questions, it's that it would probably detract from reading the story, even if it's not the best. I know whenever I read, I never really want an explanation of something _right then._ It makes it too boring in my opinion. **

**Try and figure out that last bit with Angela, will ya? For now though… "Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"**

**Eragon Skulblakahjarta**


	8. Chapter 8

Hello again... Yes, I know I said I wouldn't do this, but this story is ON HOLD for an unknown amount of time. If I can't come up with anything for it within a month, it WILL be abandoned and/or up for adoption. If you wish to adopt it, please send me an email at vaethund90 at gmail dot com (simply replace the "at" and "dot" with the correct symbols. You should know what to do). Thank you.


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